A King's Ransom for a Knight
by Rainack
Summary: Sequal to Knight Terrors. When a school bus full of kids, including Michaela, is taken for ransom, can Carlee and K.I.T.T. save them? Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

As usual, Knight Rider does not belong to me. Only Carlee and Michaela belong to me.

A King's Ransom for a Knight

Chapter 1

Michaela hummed quietly along with the song that was playing on the radio. The school bus bumped along down the road, causing her to bounce up and down on the seat. Each time she bounced, her curly shoulder length brown hair seemed to become weightless, floating around her face and head. Her mom was always commenting about how much she looked like her dad, Michael Knight, who had died before she was born.

Some of the older kids were talking loudly, but she ignored them, concentrating instead on the picture she was trying to draw in her notebook. The bus's bouncing made it difficult to keep a steady hand. She smiled at the thought of what her teacher would say, if she saw what she was drawing. "Mrs. Knight, Michaela has a very vivid imagination," Mrs. Houston had told her mom several times.

She glanced up as the bus came to a stop. One of her classmates, Billy Smith, walked past her and got off when the driver opened the door. Four more stops, and she'd be getting off the bus, herself.

Michaela was excited to get home. Her mom and her best friend in the whole world, K.I.T.T., were due back from a case today.

She carefully began coloring the Trans Am she'd drawn, with the black crayon.

Just then, the bus driver slammed on the brakes, hollering, "Hold on!"

The brakes locked, causing the tires to shriek as they left rubber on the blacktop.

Michaela's crayons went flying, but she managed to hang on to her notebook, hugging it tightly to her chest with one hand and bracing herself on the seat in front of her with the other.

She tried to look around the high seat back in front of her, but being only six years old, she was just too short.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably less than a minute, the bus finally came to a stop. Still unable to see what was going on, Michaela heard the bus door open.

Her blood ran cold at what she heard next. "If you brats behave and do what you're told, you'll get to go home to your Mommies and Daddies!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Carlee straightened and stretched as she got out of the car, flexing muscles that had been inactive during the long drive home from the recent case.

"K.I.T.T., I love you dearly, but there's just nothing like being able to stand and move," she said, slapping the roof of the black T-top as she headed up to the front door of the F.L.A.G. mansion.

The mansion never failed to take her breath away. The former domicile of the late Wilton Knight, the mansion served as F.L.A.G. headquarters and home to some of the Foundation's staff. Carlee and K.I.T.T. were among those who resided there.

Wilton Knight, K.I.T.T.'s creator, had styled the mansion after a plantation big house. Most of the building was red brick, with large white pillars at the front of the house. There were flowing gardens and a luxurious swimming pool.

It sat toward the front of a piece of property that stretched several square miles. The research and development lab, where K.I.T.T. had been activated sat farther back on the property, along with several guest houses, and other buildings.

Devon Miles met Carlee at the door, a grave expression on his handsomely weathered British face.

Carlee's smile disappeared. "What?" she asked.

Taking Carlee's arm, Devon tried to steer her towards his office, and a chair.

Carlee pulled away, grabbing Devon's arm and spinning him towards her. "What!" she demanded.

"Michaela's..." Devon choked on a sob, finally managed to stifle it, and went on, "Michaela's bus went missing early this afternoon. Only one child was dropped off before it went missing!"

"No!" Carlee's scream echoed through the mansion. She suddenly found herself sitting on the floor, and didn't know how she'd ended up there.

Devon sat down next to her, pulling Carlee into his embrace. "The school received a phone call an hour after the bus went missing. A ransom demand. They want one hundred thousand dollars from each family by five o'clock tomorrow afternoon, or they'll start..." Devon couldn't go on.

"No! It won't come to that!" Carlee said, pulling away from Devon. Her blue eyes flashed with cold fury, "They chose the wrong school bus to hold ransom!"

"I _knew_ you'd say that!" Devon said, a mix of fear and pride in his voice. "Bonnie's already inputting everything we know so far into K.I.T.T."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Men with guns had tossed the bus driver off the bus and driven the bus to an isolated garage.

The men had told everyone to leave their things on the bus and get out. The bus had been backed into the garage and the big roll up door had been closed.

Now they were all huddled on the floor several feet away from the bus. Three men with guns stood watch over them.

Some of the kids were quietly crying. One kindergartner was sobbing loudly.

"Shut up!" the closest gunman shouted in the little boy's face, which only caused him to sob louder.

Michaela moved next to the boy and put her arm around him. "You're mean!" she said to the gunman. To the boy she said, "Don't worry! My mom and my friend, K.I.T.T., will get us out of this."

Her friends all thought K.I.T.T. was a person, since she wasn't allowed to tell them what he really was. She told them he and her mom were partners, which was true. But instead of being an indestructible car that could do all kinds of cool stuff, he was an ex cop, like her mom.

* * *

Carlee paced the length of Devon's office, as Devon filled her in on everything the police had shared with the Foundation.

"The ransom call was traced to a garage twenty miles out of town. The caller knew the police were running a trace and told them if they move any police into the area, they would start sending bodies out."

"How many kids are on that bus?" Carlee wanted to know.

"Twenty-five," was Devon's instant answer.

"At one hundred thousand a child! My God, Devon! That's two point five million!"

"Yes! Quite a tidy sum of money," Devon, sitting on his swivel chair, steepled his fingers in front of him.

"What do we know about the exchange?" Carlee asked, a plan slowly forming in her mind.

"They said they'd call back tomorrow at noon with details," Devon replied.

"Devon, do whatever you have to do. I want to be the one to make the exchange!"

"I've anticipated that and already discussed the matter with the police chief. He's not thrilled with the idea, but he's agreed to let the Foundation handle it. I think he figures the department can avoid lawsuits that way, if something goes wrong."

"Good! I'm going to take K.I.T.T. and get a look at that garage," Carlee said, spinning on her heel and heading toward the door.

"Please! Be careful!" Devon called after her.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

K.I.T.T.'s engine roared to life the moment Carlee opened the connecting door from the mansion to the garage.

"If you'd taken any longer, I was going to drive out there to look at that garage by myself." K.I.T.T.'s scanner raced back and forth across his prow, an indication of his highly agitated state. Michael, then Carlee, and now Michaela each were a huge part of his existence. Michael had been taken from him abruptly. He would fight fiercely to protect Carlee and Michaela.

The driver's side door swung open as Carlee sprinted around the back of the sleek T-top. She sank down into the seat as the door closed itself after her.

K.I.T.T. triggered the garage door to open, and Carlee threw the transmission into reverse, barreling out of the garage at a high rate of speed, nearly taking the door with them.

"K.I.T.T., plot us a course to that garage. I want to be in visual and scanner range, but I don't want them to know we're there."

"I'm already working on it," K.I.T.T. replied, a map of the surrounding area came up on his number two monitor.

Eager to get there and see what they were up against, Carlee pulled out of the Foundation driveway at nearly one hundred miles an hour. Within a few seconds of hitting blacktop, she punched the speedometer up to two hundred fifty.

They reached the spot K.I.T.T. had indicated on the map in just under four minutes.

The garage was in a slight depression in the surrounded hills. K.I.T.T. sat behind heavy underbrush and trees on the peak of one of the hills. The best way Carlee could think to describe it was a box canyon.

"What do we have?" Carlee asked.

K.I.T.T.'s number one monitor came to life with a schematic of the garage. Several red blips and a mass of green blips were superimposed on the schematic.

"The green blips are the kids. They seem fine, other than the expected stress indicators in their vital signs. All twenty-five are huddled on the floor."

"How about the gunmen, K.I.T.T.?" Carlee asked.

"Three in the garage with the kids. There are three people walking the perimeter outside the garage. It looks like there are two more people in an office at the back of the garage."

"Anything else we need to know about?" Carlee inquired.

"The gunmen are all carrying assault rifles, and the school bus has been rigged with enough explosives to level the garage," K.I.T.T. responded.

"Detonating device?" Carlee demanded.

"It can be triggered remotely, but it also has a timer."

Carlee sat back in her seat, studying the garage schematic.

"I know what you're thinking, Carlee," K.I.T.T. broke into her thoughts. "It's too dangerous. There are too many gunmen. We have to wait."

Carlee sighed, the sigh threatened to turn into a sob, which she stifled by biting her lower lip hard enough to cause intense pain.

"We'll get her back," K.I.T.T. reassured her.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

By now, the kids had been huddled on the hard, grease stained garage floor for about three hours.

Michaela's stomach had begun to growl and she wished she were home, at the mansion, digging into one of Cook's famous feasts. She would talk about her day while her mom, Uncle Devon, and Aunt Bonnie listened. Then she would tell K.I.T.T. jokes over her mom's comlink.

Michaela looked up when one of the high school kids stood up. It was Jacob Johansson. She thought he was okay, for a big kid.

One of the gunmen turned toward Jacob menacingly.

Holding his hands out placatingly, Jacob said, "We're all getting really hungry, mister, and some of the smaller children need to use the bathroom."

"Do I look like room service to you! Shut up and sit down!" the gunman snapped, taking a menacing step toward Jacob, who dropped back down to the floor.

Michaela stuck her tongue out at the man, after he had turned his back on them. Her friend, Jimmy, saw her and burst out laughing.

The gunman swung back around. "What's so funny!" he demanded.

"Nothing," Jimmy managed to get his laughter under control.

Michaela had tucked her tongue safely back into her mouth. "What's funny is my mom's going to kick all of your booties!" she smugly told the man.

The gunman burst out laughing. "Your mom... kick our butts... Now that _is_ a laugh." He moved to turn back around, but what Michaela said next stopped him cold.

"She works for the Foundation for Law and Government," Michaela said proudly.

* * *

The office door of the garage was flung open by the gunman. He stormed into the room, his face ashen.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking, Curtis!" the man seated behind the desk bellowed angrily, looking up from the papers in front of him.

"Murphy, you didn't tell us one of those brats out there is Carlee Knight's kid!" Curtis exclaimed.

"Who the hell's Carlee Knight!" Murphy demanded.

"You're kidding, right! She works for the Foundation for Law and Government!" Curtis responded.

"So! What's one woman going to be able to do against an armed group!" Murphy scoffed.

"I just finished serving four years on account of her and that car! I'm not going to stick around so she can send me back!" Curtis tossed his gun on the desk, and headed for the exterior door of the office.

Murphy picked up the discarded weapon and shot Curtis in the back of the head.

Two of the other gunmen ran into the office, with their guns held ready, to see what had happened.

Murphy gestured to the body on the floor, "Curtis wanted out. That's the only way out, in case you're considering getting out, too! Devaroe, you go help Preston watch the kids. Bradley, you clean up this mess."

Bradley dragged the body out the door, and Devaroe went back out to the main garage. Murphy turned back to the papers he'd been studying earlier.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The sun had set hours ago, and dinner time had come and gone. Carlee had forced herself to eat, but had mostly just picked at her food.

Now she was pacing around the F.L.A.G. garage like a caged tiger.

In checking out the garage where the kids were being held, she'd done all she could. It was now a waiting game. The Foundation was gathering all of the money. Once the money was put together, they had to wait for the phone call with the exchange instructions.

There were no leads as to who the kidnappers were. The bus driver hadn't gotten a look at any of the men because they'd all worn ski masks. And due to the remote location of the garage, no one could get close enough to get a look at the men there, either. Carlee thought the only logical explanation was someone from a past case was out for revenge against her. But then why take all those other kids? Were they just collateral damage?

"Pacing the garage all night isn't going to make time speed up," K.I.T.T. said softly. "You should try to sleep. You'll need to be alert tomorrow."

"I know, K.I.T.T., but I don't know if I _can_ sleep," Carlee replied, as she started on another circuit of the garage.

As Carlee was about to stalk past K.I.T.T.'s driver side, K.I.T.T. opened the door in front of her. "At least sit down for a while."

Carlee sighed and got in. K.I.T.T. closed the door and blacked out the windows, plunging the interior into almost perfect darkness. K.I.T.T.'s voice modulator and a few active gauges cast a dim red light on Carlee's features. He also started driving forward and backward, rocking her gently.

"Lean back and close your eyes," K.I.T.T. suggested.

"Do I have any other choice? You've made it black as pitch in here!" Carlee complained good naturedly.

"I know," K.I.T.T. replied smugly.

Carlee leaned her head back on the head rest and closed her eyes. She didn't expect to be able to sleep, but within minutes, she was out.

* * *

The phone call had been routed from the school to Devon's office, in the F.L.A.G. mansion.

"Do you have the money?" the distorted voice on the other end asked.

"Yes!" Devon replied.

"Good! There's been a slight change in plans, though. We want an extra five hundred thousand for the Knight kid.

"What!" Devon glanced unnecessarily at his watch, it was just after noon. "There's no way we can get that much by five!"

"You've got an extra three hours. I'm sure the Foundation and Knight Industries are good for it! After that, we start throwing bodies out the door, starting with the Knight girl." The line went dead.

Devon sank down into his chair, and ran a well manicured hand through his gray hair.

"What?" Carlee demanded.

"Somehow, they found out about Michaela's connection to F.L.A.G. They want five hundred thousand more. We have until eight o'clock tonight, or she'll be the first one they kill."

"I'm not waiting any longer! K.I.T.T. and I are going to go in there! We'll get those kids out!" Carlee spun on her heel and left Devon's office before he could utter a word of protest. Usually Carlee was much more level headed than Michael had been, but when it came to being a mother, she was just as impulsive and reckless as he had been.

She stopped by her suite long enough to grab her Glock, then went to the garage.

K.I.T.T. registered Carlee's heightened emotional state and the fact that she was armed and didn't have to be told what they were going to do. "Is there anything I can say to make you rethink rushing in there?"

"Not as long as they have Michaela!" Carlee exclaimed, opening the door and getting behind the wheel. She gripped the gull wing wheel hard enough to make her knuckles turn white.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

K.I.T.T. was parked on the peak of the same hill they'd parked on before.

He once again scanned the garage below.

"There are still three men walking the perimeter. Three men are in the main garage, and one is in the office. That leaves one unaccounted for," K.I.T.T. informed Carlee.

"I'm going to take out the three sentries first, then I'll head inside. Be ready to get down there to tow that bus out of the garage."

"I'm a highly specialized piece of technology, _not_ a tow truck!" K.I.T.T. groused.

"But you'll do it for those kids," Carlee said, patting K.I.T.T.'s dashboard affectionately, then getting out of the car.

She slipped through the underbrush and picked her way down the hillside. She picked her way carefully, trying to avoid all the dry leaves. The late autumn breeze was just chilly enough to make her wish she'd at least worn a sweater over the plain black T-shirt she wore. Her black jeans were loose enough that they wouldn't hinder her movements, and her black hiking boots helped her keep traction on the hill side. It was still just steep enough to cause her to nearly slip a time or two.

At the bottom, she kept herself out of sight and hissed in her comlink, "Where are they, K.I.T.T.?"

She was hidden in some brush several feet from the east side of the garage.

"You've got one coming around the south side toward you," K.I.T.T. hissed back. "The other two are standing around talking right now."

Carlee waited, anxiously watching the southeast corner of the building.

A few minutes later, a masked gunman ambled around the corner. He wasn't expecting any trouble. That was obvious from the way he carried his weapon, hanging down by his side. The black ski mask hid all but his eyes and mouth. He wore woodland camouflage and black combat boots. There was a two-way radio clipped to his belt.

Carlee waited for him to pass, then rushed him from behind. Using her Glock as a club, she swung as hard as she could at his head.

The weapon connected with a satisfying thud and the man dropped like a stone, without uttering a sound.

Grabbing his feet, she dragged him into the underbrush, where she searched him and pulled off his ski mask.

"Get a picture of this guy to Devon," Carlee hissed in the comlink. Then she held the comlink up so K.I.T.T. could snap a picture of the unconscious man's face.

Pulling the laces free of the man's combat boots, she tied first his hands then his feet. She then improvised a gag from the mask.

"That's one down, two to go. What are the other two doing now, K.I.T.T.?" Carlee whispered into the comlink.

"They've resumed their rounds. Though one appears to have gone into the trees on the west side of the building to relieve himself. The other is heading around the north side of the building."

Belatedly, Carlee realized there were drag marks in the dirt from the place where she'd knocked the first gunman out to the where she'd stashed him under a low hanging tree. The branches were as thick as her thigh, and very sturdy looking.

She quickly scrambled up the tree to a branch that hung over the bound man. She hoped the second man wouldn't look up, since the bare branches left her more exposed than she liked.

The second gunman noticed the drag marks and followed them to the first man.

He was looking around and was just reaching for his radio when Carlee rolled off her branch and landed on top of him. He was now out cold, too.

She quickly bound and gagged this man the same way she had the first.

Carlee had K.I.T.T. snap a picture of this man to send to Devon, too.

"Where's the third gunman?" Carlee hissed into her comlink.

"He's still in the trees, but he's moving around the building, toward your location. I think he may have noticed that the first man didn't get all the way around the building," K.I.T.T. replied.

"Go into silent mode and get down here. I think I'm going to need you in a few minutes!" Carlee whispered urgently.

"I'm on my way!" K.I.T.T. assured her.

Carlee took cover behind the tree she had previously climbed. She had her Glock in a double handed grip in front of her, angled toward the ground. She was no woodsman, so she preferred to remain where she knew she wouldn't give away her position.

Listening intently, she tried to distinguish any noises that might give the third gunman away.

Several minutes passed without so much as a snapping twig. The first she knew that he was behind her was when his gun barrel pressed to her side.

Very slowly, Carlee brought her hands up, letting her Glock slide down her finger by the trigger guard.

"Now, that was a really stupid thing to do," the gunman sneered, roughly pulling Carlee's gun from her. "Sending one person against an unknown number of armed men."

"One person can make a difference," Carlee replied, beginning to turn. As she turned, she grabbed the barrel of the automatic weapon and pushed it away from her. As she did that, she brought her knee up into the man's mid section, causing him to double over.

Not giving him a chance to recover, Carlee pulled the man's gun out of his hands and brought the stock down on his head hard enough to send him sprawling.

She made short work of tying him up. As she was finishing, she heard the light crunch of tires on gravel. She grabbed her Glock from where it had fallen out of the gunman's hand.

Turning around, she could just make K.I.T.T. out through the trees. He was parked a few yards away from the big garage doors.

Scooping up the gunmen's weapons, Carlee sprinted over to him, and K.I.T.T. opened the driver side door for her.

She didn't bother to get in, though, instead, she tossed the assault rifles in onto the passenger seat. "I took care of the three sentries. Now I need some kind of diversion. We've got to get the remaining gunmen away from the kids."

"Sometimes the best approach is the direct approach. Why not knock on the door?" K.I.T.T. suggested.

"I had kind of thought about that, but the sentries would take care of anyone that approaches," Carlee said.

"No. The sentries would stay out of sight until threat level was assessed. I don't think they'd show themselves to someone who just stumbled on the place by accident," K.I.T.T. gave a persuasive argument.

"What do you have in mind?" Carlee asked.

"Perhaps the stranded motorist in need of mechanical help?"

"You may be on to something, K.I.T.T. How's about a flat tire?"

K.I.T.T.'s left front tire deflated until the rim was sitting on the ground.

Carlee shoved her Glock out of sight in the waist band of her pants at the small of her back, then she walked to a side door of the garage and knocked.

She waited a minute, then knocked again. This time she hollered, "Anybody here? I really need some help! My car's got a flat tire."

The door finally opened a crack and a dark haired man in his mid thirties looked out at her.

Carlee affected an innocent smile. "Ugh, hi! My car got a flat, and I really could use some help."

Behind the man, Carlee could just make out the school bus. It's hood was opened, as if it were being worked on.

"Hey, Carl! I'm going to go help the little lady out. Be right back," the man shouted over his shoulder. Carlee suspected there was another gunman directly behind the door from the way the man in the doorway nearly imperceptibly handed something off. His rifle, she suspected.

The door opened wider, and Carlee backed out of the way to allow the man exit. He had a two-way radio clipped to his belt. He was dressed in mechanic's grease stained coveralls. A name patch on the right breast said "Charlie," but she doubted the coveralls were even his.

Carlee followed the man back to the garage's front, and K.I.T.T.

The man whistled long and low, in appreciation of the sleek black T-top, "Nice!"

"Thank you," Carlee replied.

"Open the trunk, so I can get the jack and spare out."

Carlee stuck her hand in her pocket, and the trunk obediently popped up.

"Remote," she said, when the man raised a brow in question.

Carrying the necessary equipment to the driver's side front tire, the man knelt down to position the jack under the car. The sound of a round being chambered stopped him.

"Stand up real slow," Carlee commanded.

As the man straightened, K.I.T.T.'s tire reinflated. The gunman's mouth dropped open in astonishment.

"Close your mouth before you catch a fly," Carlee admonished.

The man's mouth clicked shut and he swallowed nervously.

"Now listen carefully. You are going to very carefully take that radio and call one of your friends out to help you with that damned tire."

The man nodded his understanding.

"Try anything funny, and I will shoot you!" Carlee growled.

The man did as instructed. When he was finished, Carlee brought the butt of her gun down on the back of his neck as hard as she could, knocking him out.

She opened K.I.T.T.'s driver side door, taking up a firing position behind it.

The side door of the garage opened and another gunman walked out.

Seeing Carlee, his hands moved toward the small of his back.

"Stop, or I will shoot you!" Carlee commanded.

The gunman stopped in his tracks, bringing his hands up in defeat.

"Turn around and back towards me," she instructed.

Carlee skirted the open car door, moving quickly toward the gunman who was backing toward her. She pulled his gun from his waistband and cold cocked him as she had the others.

"Where are the other two gunmen, K.I.T.T.?" Carlee asked, as she tossed the gun she'd taken onto the passenger seat through K.I.T.T.'s open door.

"One is in the main garage watching the kids. The other is still in the office. Only the man in the main garage has a gun. The other man has the detonating remote for the explosives on the bus."

"Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to go in and take out the last guy watching the kids. Then I'm going to get that door open so you can grapple the bus and get it out of here."

Carlee stalked back to the side door. The comlink beeped, as K.I.T.T. alerted her that it was safe to open the door.

She tried to twist the knob, but it was locked. A second later, she heard a click, as K.I.T.T. unlocked it for her.

Easing the door open, she slid through and gently closed it again.

Covering the distance between the door and the bus in ground eating strides, Carlee flattened herself against the bus. She listened intently, but other than an occasional sniffle, the garage was silent as a tomb. That thought sent a chill of fear racing along her spine.

Carlee eased along the side of the bus until she'd reached the back. She eased her head out from cover and looked around as much as she could.

No one was in sight, so she eased around the corner of the bus, until she was at the back driver's side corner.

The last gunman stood with his back to her, his gun held easily at his side.

The kids sat huddled closely together on the floor a few feet in front of the gunman. Most of them faced the front of the garage, but there were a few facing Carlee's direction. She just had to pray they wouldn't give her away. She could see Michaela talking quietly with a younger boy.

Rushing from cover, Carlee brought her gun up to hit the man and send him reeling.

In that instant, one of the kids reacted to her presence, which caused the gunman to turn.

As he spun, the man pulled his gun up, but by then, Carlee was in close, pushing the gun up and away from her. The shots that rang out went harmlessly into the rafters. Several of the kids started screaming.

Carlee knew she had just minutes to save them all from being blown to kingdom come, as the last kidnapper would surely react to the gunshots.

Still struggling with the gunman, Carlee screamed, "Get that door open!"

"That's my mom! We've got to do what she says!" Michaela's voice called out to one of the older kids.

Michaela's voice sent a surge of strength through Carlee.

As the big garage door began to roll up, Carlee managed to jerk the automatic weapon away from the gunman. She took the gun in one hand and shoved her Glock into her waist band with the other.

The gunman stopped struggling and raised his hands.

Carlee brought her left hand up so she could talk into the comlink. "Get that bus out of here, K.I.T.T.!"

"Already on it," came the instant response.

Looking toward the bus, Carlee saw K.I.T.T. backing rapidly up to it. His grappling hook shot out and caught on the bus. K.I.T.T. eased forward, taking up the slack on the grappling cable.

Once the cable was taut, K.I.T.T. floored the accelerator. His wheels spun for a minute, then very slowly, he began to pull the bus forward. It wouldn't be fast enough, though.

"I need the bus's air brakes released!" K.I.T.T. told Carlee frantically through the comlink.

"Michaela, come here!" Carlee called to her daughter.

Michaela sprinted to her mother's side.

Carlee pulled her Glock from her waistband and handed it to her daughter. Michaela expertly thumbed off the safety and took the large gun in a two handed grip.

"Don't think for a moment she'll hesitate to use it!" Carlee growled at the gunman.

Carlee slung the appropriated assault rifle over her shoulder and ran around the back of the bus, and back along its passenger side. She leapt up the stairs and released the air brakes.

Whirling around, Carlee dove back out of the bus, which lurched forward just as she hit the ground.

Just as the back of the bus cleared the garage door, a door on the far side of the garage flew open.

The last kidnapper must have found a gun somewhere, for in one hand he held a hand gun. In the other, he held the detonating remote for the explosives.

"Knight!" he seethed. Then he pressed the button on the remote.

The bus, several yards away from the garage by now, exploded in a brilliant fireball. The fireball engulfed K.I.T.T. as well.

Carlee couldn't take the time to worry about him, though.

Not giving the man a chance to react, Carlee charged him, bringing her assault rifle up as she went.

Mindful of where the kids were, Carlee opened fire, driving the man back toward the office.

As she ran past, she shouted to the kids, "Get out of here!" Then she brought her wrist up, "K.I.T.T.? You okay?"

"A little toasty, but undamaged," K.I.T.T. replied.

"Get around to the outer office door! The last kidnapper is trying to escape."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Murphy wasn't about to be cornered in the office. He burst out the door and towards the van he had stashed in the woods for his getaway.

He found his way blocked by Knight's Trans Am. He didn't know how it had survived the explosion. Hell, he didn't even know how it had managed to pull the bus, but he wouldn't let it stand between him and freedom.

The getaway van roared to life, and Murphy drove it out of the trees and straight at the prow of the black car.

Murphy figured that ramming into it with the economy size van would shove the thing out of the way.

Instead, he found himself sailing over the top of the T-top, the van turning onto its driver side as it went.

The van hit the ground with a metal rending screech. Murphy had been tossed about in the cab of the van.

He came to as Carlee was pulling him out of a gaping hole in the windsheild.

A police cruiser screeched to a halt near the burning bus, then managed to pick a route around it to get closer to the garage.

Carlee pushed the kidnapper over to K.I.T.T., where she made him lean on K.I.T.T.'s hood at gun point while they waited for the policemen to find them.

Meanwhile, K.I.T.T. had taken a picture of the man.

"Victor Murphy," K.I.T.T. informed Carlee, "Is the father of Daniel Murphy, one of the kids from the bus. Records indicate that Victor and his wife divorced two years ago, and his wife got sole custody of Daniel. She got sole custody of Daniel because Victor is suffering from post traumatic stress syndrom from the Gulf War."

Murphy looked around in alarm, "Who said that!"

Carlee ignored his question. Instead, she switched the rifle to her left hand, brought her right back and decked Murphy as hard as she could. "That's for the terror you put all those kids through!"

A policeman came out of the open office door just then, and Carlee gladly handed Murphy off.

As the policeman lead Murphy away, the kids came running around the building, and gathered around K.I.T.T.

Michaela opened the driver's side door and sat on the seat. "This is K.I.T.T.," she told them.

"Hello, everyone," K.I.T.T. said.

All of the kids started talking at once.

When the kids had quieted down, Michaela said, "We need you to keep K.I.T.T. a secret."

Heads nodded all around, as all of the kids agreed.

A few minutes later, parents began arriving. They were tearfully reunited with their children.

Daniel's mom had requested to see Murphy.

"You bastard!" she spat, slapping him sharply across the face. "This is the reason you don't have visitation rights!"

* * *

"I'm so proud of you!" Carlee told Michaela on the ride home.

"I was really scared, but I knew you and K.I.T.T. would come get us," Michaela said solemnly.

Devon and Bonnie met them at the door when they reached the mansion.

Michaela gave Bonnie a hug, then she gave Devon one.

Devon hugged her, then held her at arms length. "Michaela, you cannot tell people your mom works for the Foundation. It can put your mom and K.I.T.T. in danger. It can even put you in danger."

"Okay, Uncle Devon," Michaela said very seriously, her blue eyes wide.

"Now, young lady," said Carlee, let's get you some dinner and get your bath."


End file.
